A Guide to Charming Royals

Chapter Thirty-Five: LEILA

Ariah leads me through the hallway, and when silence falls over us, I wait, even though it's been three days, for her to tell me about her interaction with Madyan in the garden. But she doesn't. The longer she goes without mentioning the encounter I had accidentally noticed from the balcony on my floor, the more I think of all the things I've shared with her, the small details, and the big, and this horribly stings. She didn't think of sharing it with me.

"Where are we going?" I ask when we enter a dark hallway. A cold bites at my arms, so I pull my sweater tight.

"I wanted to show you something," she answers quietly. Her voice echoes back at me. "We're in a tunnel."

"In a tunnel?" I repeat, reaching out to touch the wall, its jagged stone cold. "Why?"

She smiles. "We thought you'd be interested in knowing about shortcuts to travel from one place to another."

I chuckle. "And I like that, but your palace is gigantic. How do I know which door will lead to a tunnel?"

She leans closer. "Never ever tell anyone this, but doors that open to tunnels have a lever shaped handle to appear like a pulley. You'd find one or two doors that are misleading, but most are passageways."

"Cool," I answer and look around. "Don't you have any parties or something before your wedding day? You're getting married in two days."

She shrugs. "We requested no big parties until the wedding." A couple of months we spend in silence, before she says, "What's wrong with you? You've been awfully quiet these past few mo–days."

I shrug, then shake my head. My nails dig into the palm of my hands and I desperately plead for the words to come out, to somehow let her know about everything I've been hiding. And yet, no matter how hard I try, the words don't slip from my tongue. Instead, I say, "I miss Salar." The words make me want to vomit, but I hold it in. "Don't you think we should invite him to the wedding, too?"

"Of course not," Ariah answers instantly. "Dear, getting you to the palace was already a big hassle for us. If we invite someone we barely know, we will be in great trouble."

It's wrong of me, but I've spent enough time with Ariah to know that it's easy to tap into her insecurities. And I profusely apologize in my head when I say, "Really? I thought you call yourself the heiress. Can't the crown princess do anything she wants?"

"Technically, our father is the crown prince–"

"But you'll be queen someday, won't you?" She begins to head back and I follow after her. "Even if you're like a grandma to ten grandchildren by then.

She snickers. "Why now, though? You haven't mentioned him even once during this entire trip."

I shrug, bumping my shoulder against hers, hoping somehow she will know. But though she is staring at me, she seems to be looking past me, already thinking of a way to bring Salar to the palace. My heart beats accelerate at the thought of Salar entering enemy territory and murdering someone. What will I do if this happens?

No, my plan is to have him arrested without making it obvious that I'm behind it. I will work something out. I always do.

"I realize now that I miss him, and I want him to be here for your big moment," I lie. I find that lying comes easier now that I've done it so often in the past couple of months. Am I a pathological liar? "If we get married, he'll need to know you're a princess. I can't hide that from him my entire life."

She doesn't agree, nor does she turn down the idea as we walk down the hallway. Guilt has never felt more damaging.

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